All language subtitles for Crazy.Famous.2017.720p.BluRay.H264.AAC-RARBG

Yes!

Believe it or not,
anyone can be famous,

and you don't really need
God-given ability to do it,

but that doesn't mean
you go out there

and shoot up
a crowded movie theater.

That's just wrong,
but if you're motivated,

you can get yourself
on a reality TV show,

or jump cars on a motorcycle

or... or marry a movie star

or simply find a wife

willing to have 20 kids.

As for myself,
my best shot at the limelight

is to buddy up to the President.

I just need the attention
of the media first.

So you jumped
the Camp David fence

to be on the 11:00 news?

Yeah, it's pretty inventive,
huh?

Hey, where's all the TV cameras?

- TV cameras?
- And reporters.

I thought I'd be doing
a bunch of interviews by now.

- I gotta get out of here.
- There's no interviews,

Mr. Marcus.

There's no reporters
or cameras either.

It's just us.

Just us?

Why don't you have a seat?

I don't get it.

This is supposed to be big news.

People... people jump the White
House fence all the time.

I don't think Camp David
has the same impact.

I understand the President

- wasn't even there at the time.
- Really?

Mr. Marcus, can you identify
the precise point

when your preoccupation
to be famous

- initially manifested?
- Excuse me?

When did you first try
to become famous?

First time?

That's easy.

I have some really
bad news for you, Thomas.

Your dog was hit by a car.

He died.

I'm so, so, sorry.

No, Rex? Not my Rex.

No, Rex. Please.

Did you teach him that voice?

He can...

- That's it?
- Yeah, more than enough.

How do you expect a young boy to
cry without proper motivation?

Blah, blah, blah, next!

Take a seat.

Tyler, welcome.

Tyler.

No, Rex.

Not my Rex.

No...

Rex, please!

You can stop.
That was...

That was amazing.
I actually felt something.

- Oh, my God.
- You're fantastic, Tyler.

And that's how it's done.

Yeah, thank you.

Exit that way.

Always difficult when fantasy
and reality intersect.

Yeah.

After I squashed
my mom's dreams,

it was my dad's turn.

Get a little arc in there.

- Now, pay attention.
- Okay.

Just keep going.
Keep going.

On: Your dad
give up after that?

Not yet.

He was determined to get my face

on a box of Wheaties.

If I was going to make
a name for myself,

I was going to have to do it
on my own.

Go! Go! Go!
Go, go!

Winner!

You know, Mr. Marcus.

If someone has aspirations
to be famous,

it's usually a prerequisite
that the individual have

some sort of
exceptional talent or skill.

- Wouldn't you agree?
- Can I borrow your cell phone?

There must be a pic of me at
Camp David going viral by now.

Based on your failed attempts,

don't you think it's time

you focused
on more attainable goals?

This is not fair.

What about the couple that
crashed the white house dinner?

They were all over the news,

and they weren't even
charged with a crime,

so why am I here?

Mr. Marcus, only .001% of us
will ever truly be famous.

With those odds, I think
it's in your best interest

if you embraced
a normal lifestyle

like 99.99% of the population.

Can I have a newspaper?

There's gotta be
an article about me.

Listen.
I went through your file.

You never finished college.

You drifted from job to job,

no significant other,
no close friends.

I understand you don't even
talk to your parents.

We're wasting time.

I need to strike
while the iron is hot.

Maybe you don't understand
this concept. All right?

Can I please get the number
of the publicist

that I left in my coat pocket?

- Can you do that for me?
- Mr. Marcus,

if you don't overcome this unrealistic
obsession, a well-adjusted...

What do you want from me?
Huh?

What do you want? You want me to
say that I'll be an average nobody?

- Is that what you want?
- Just calm down...

An average nobody
with an average life

doing average things?

Well, it's not an option!

I cannot be part
of the 99.99%.

I have to be famous!
Don't you understand?

- That's what I'm meant to be. - Mr.
Marcus, you need to calm yourself down.

So if it's not gonna happen,
why don't we just end it?

Why don't we just end it, okay?

You don't even know what
the fuck I'm going through.

- Let it out for me. - I don't
know why, but I still gotta try.

Why don't I just end it?

- Guards!
- You wanna see me end it?

- Guards!
- I'll do it.

I'll do it.

Get your hands off me!

You can't...

Stop pushing around.

Everybody stop pushing
me around.

You're doing it wrong.

Excuse me?

I said,
"you're doing it wrong."

You need a sharp vertical cut

instead of a puncture motion.

Hey, look... what are you doing?

I'm helping you.

Jeez, you could show
a little gratitude.

- Gratitude?
- Uh, yeah.

Your way was going to be
quite messy,

not to mention pretty painful.

You don't want to go out
like that, do you?

How do you know?

I've had a lot of practice.

Three failed attempts,
to be exact.

What are you guys doing?

I'm Hannah Renner, by the way.

Uh, Bob.

You're a palindrome?

Talk about Karma.

My name's actu...

Actually Robert.

Looks like we got
a little suicide watch, huh?

Let me guess. You fucked
a goat at a petting zoo.

No?

Maybe you took a piss
in a bathroom sink

at a 5-star restaurant?

Oh.

You're one of
those conventional types.

Yeah, you probably looked
in the mirror

and decided that chugging
a whole bottle of sleeping pills

was the best option, right?

I... I just wanna be famous.

Famous?

Well, you're in good company,

real good company.

Shake hands... ha ha ha...

With popular TV personality
and world renowned psychologist,

Dr. Phil.

You have OCD?

PTSD?

OCPD?

- ADHD?
- That's enough!

He'll give you a headache
with all of his issues.

What's... what's your problem?

Who, me?

Well, they say that I got
anger management issues,

but I don't see it.

Then again,
there was this one time

where I told this doctor
that I would shank his face

and eat his brains
while he was still alive.

He has IED, intermittent
explosive disorder.

- I do not.
- Do, too.

- I do not.
- Do, too.

- I do not!
- Do, too, Larry.

- Stay the fuck away from me!
- Phil!

Control yourself.

These fuckers are always trying
to mess with my head.

You know?

Patient uses food and anger

to cope with his avoidance

if his insecurity issues.

You think I'm like
everyone else around here.

Barks at the moon.

Well, I'm not,
you high-and-mighty asshole.

Besides, you're the one wearing
the anti-suicide smock, not me.

Listen, kid.

I'm gonna make this easy.

You're average.

You're like vanilla
in an ice cream shop.

The only chances you have
of becoming famous

is running through
a field during the Super Bowl,

running to the 50-yard line,

and putting gasoline
all over yourself

and lighting your fucking ass
on fire.

In the news,
world renowned urologist

Ahmed Abin Habidl

recently relocated
from the middle east

to a research facility
in upstate New York

to work on
a urological innovation

known as the bladder project.

- He'll be in this facility for the next...
- There he goes again.

Who's he?

He's the craziest dude
in the institution.

He's got this whole
euro-flash thing.

He thinks he's Jason Bourne
or Ethan Hunt.

Doesn't talk to anybody.
Just mumbles about conspiracies

and Bin Laden
and some cockamamie bullshit.

Bin Laden?

Isn't he already dead?

Exactly.

I know where he is.

You know where who is?

Bin Laden.

Bin Laden?

Hey, numb nuts,

Bin Laden bought it years ago.

Not really, old chap.

That's why they sent me here.

Who the fuck are they?

I believe he's having a recurrent
schizophrenic delusional thing

- whereby he thinks...
- You shut the hell up!

I said, "who are they?"

- The CIA.
- CIA? You?

Oh, you're really off
the reservation.

No wonder you're involuntary.

Oh, my dear pussy,
I'm only involuntary

because they set me up.

Who the fuck
are you calling pussy?

- Fucking call me pussy?
- I wouldn't do that.

Get off of me.
Get off me.

- Let's go.
- Get your fucking hands off me!

Let's go!

Get off me!
Come on, fucker. Come on!

Let's go. Let's go.

He's very excitable.

Mister?

Uh... mister?

Smith.

Uh, Smith.

Do you really know
where Bin Laden is?

I most certainly do, Felix.

And if you can get me
out of here,

I'll make sure you end up
having tea

on the telly
with Barbara Walters.

Something you want to tell us?

Have it your way.

Time for a new batch
of delusions.

You are aware
that hypnotic drugs

have proven rather ineffectual

in conventional interrogation.

I suggest the use of pliers

for the extraction
of molars and fingernails.

In due time, Mr. Smith.

In due time.

Ready to talk about jackpot now?

No?

Still time to change your mind.

You'll have to do better
than that, my good man.

Last chance.

Get on with it.

How's that feel, Mr. Smith?

Shocking.
Positively shocking.

Shall I continue?

Please! But don't stop now,
old boy.

My sinuses have almost cleared.

Had enough?

I can't do this anymore.

Tell your supervisor I'm done.

It's not in my job description.

Untie him.

- He in yet?
- He's just finishing up.

You can go in.

So, how did it go?

Not good, I'm afraid.

God damn it.

I knew that shrink psychoanalytical
mumbo - jumbo wouldn’t work.

Smith's the best, sir.

Oh, second best.

Of course, sir.
My apologies.

I promise you this.

Once Smith talks

or we find jackpot ourselves,

Smith's done.

No two ways about it.
He's done.

Uh... Mr. Smith?

Do you remember
our Bin Laden conversation?

Jackpot.

Excuse me?

Intelligence circles
commonly refer

to the target as jackpot.

Oh, okay.

Uh, jackpot.

Do you really know where he...

What are you doing?

Preparation is half the victory.

I don't mean to be pushy,

but...

Come on.

Jackpot's dead.

Just because our leaders
say it's so

doesn't make it so.

But how do you...
How do you know?

I'm the only one privy
to the doctor.

Doctor? What doctor?

If you had a serious ailment,

and the only one that could
assist you lived far away,

would you move?

Yeah, sure.

Congratulations, old boy.

You know more
than my old colleague did.

A man of means must make
his health a priority.

Smith.

Medication time.

Get me out of here, Felix.
You won't regret it.

Hey.

You scared me.

Whatcha doing?

Looking for a way out.

Why? You just got here.

I don't belong here.

Finally got the opportunity to
do something really important

and be somebody.

Why are you so hyped
to be somebody?

You wouldn't understand.

If I were famous,

like really famous...

People would seek me out.

I'd have value.

People would finally notice me.

If being famous were so great,

then how come
almost every celebrity

has tried suicide?

Where'd you hear that?
Why would a celebrity

try to kill themselves?
They've already made it.

Trust me. Almost everybody
in Hollywood

has thought about suicide
at one point or another.

You know what's worse than
being bullied or hated?

Being anally raped
by Santa Claus.

No, being ignored.

Out there, I can actually
become something.

It's a total waste of my time
being in here.

- There's no benefit.
- Are you serious?

Uh, this place is awesome.

You get
three square meals a day.

You get unlimited time

to watch TV and color.

You get to kick back

with cool people who share
the same problems as you.

They give you these cool,
comfy clothes to wear.

Plus, most importantly,

you get the undivided attention
of medical professionals

whose sole purpose
is to make you feel good.

Now, what is wrong with that?

Hey, you wanna escape with me?

Dude, did anything I say
just sink in?

Oh, I'm sorry.

I don't mean to be rude,
but I gotta get going.

What?

You got a little...

R0 like you to join our escape

so we can capture Bin Laden.

What?

I need a guy

with strength and size

in case things get physical.

I've already recruited
Dr. Phil.

There's an escape
planning session

in my room in one hour.

Okay?

You actually took
Smith seriously?

You're so gullible, Marcus.

Smith isn't a secret agent,

and he doesn't know anything
about Bin Laden.

- How do you know?
- Dude, you're so caught up

on being on the cover
of "time" magazine

that you can't see straight.

Believing in Smith is like
believing I'm a ballet dancer.

All right, fine. If you don't
want fame and freedom,

then that's your loss. I guess there's
so much to look forward to being...

Stuck in this place.

That ice cream's for everybody.

Selfish.

It's my ice cream.

It's my fucking ice cream.

My fucking ice cream.

After some detailed planning,

this is what we've come up with.

Okay? All right?
And this is the way

- it's gonna work...
- Hey, am I late?

I thought
you weren't interested.

I'm not.

But the fact that I get
a chance to see you wackazoids

create a clusterfuck,
I wouldn't miss that.

Okay.

- Let's get started.
- Okay.

Smith?

Yes.

Gentlemen...

To unlock our rooms
after lights out,

we'll need the good doctor here

to lure the attendant
to his room

so he may lift his keys.

How do you suggest I do that?

Perhaps a mock seizure

or threaten to kill yourself.

Just threaten?

Hey, Einstein,

every nook and cranny
of this place

has security cameras.

And there are guards everywhere.

You won't be able
to leave this floor,

let alone the fricking dorm.

Well, we can avoid the cameras

by...

It's okay.

You know what?
Don't... don't worry.

We have a plan. We just...
We just have to hurry.

It's good to see you taking
such an interest

in something, Bob.

Thanks, Phil.

This is not gonna work.

Not with that attitude.

Now, that felt good.

That's the way it is, huh?

Just because
of some little white lie.

Have it your way.

But remember...

I'm in charge now.

So you better start flapping
your gums about jackpot.

Because if you don't,

I'm gonna make sure

you shit bricks in hell.

Shh.

Why aren't you wearing
any pants, Phil?

So that my genitals
might breathe as I slumber.

Hey, open up my fucking door.

Oh, that's a relief.

I thought he was uncircumcised.

We can use the air
ducts to get past the cameras.

That's your plan?

Oh, shit.

Oh, shit.

Someone's gonna
have a tight fit in here.

Hey.

Guys...

Smith's not in his room.

What?

Shit!

You guys okay?

We gotta find Smith.

We can't escape without him.

Well, he's probably
in the observation room.

I'll show you the way.

Oh, jee... God.

Why do they treat him this way?

Good question.

In spite of Smith's
constant hallucinatory state,

I have yet to see him once
fling poo since he's been here.

Fling poo?

Well, the technical term
is scatolia.

It's the creative art of throwing
and smearing one's feces

as a form of protest.

That's nasty.

Pure hatred
in solitary confinement

is enough to break
even the hardest patient.

We're all just one bad day away
from eating each other's feces.

That's my theory, anyway.

Well, my Willy's chilly.

I'm off to get some pants,
gentlemen.

Smith. Smith!

Smith!

You okay?

Ah, Felix.
Aren't you rather late

for a turn-down service?

Seems I'm having
a slight malfunction

with the rotating blade
on my wristwatch

yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...

Come on. Come on. Come on.

You're a good friend, Felix.

A good friend indeed.

Who the hell
chose the pecking order?

What's the problem now, Larry?

Besides having Dr. Phil's
vertical smile in my face,

I'm just dandy.

I'm terribly sorry.

My claustrophobia's
producing excess wind

- in my tunnel.
- Somebody shoot me.

Here comes another one.

Shh.

Slow it down.

Oh, shit.

- Wait, wait, wait.
- What? What?

There might be an alarm.

Beautiful.
Now what do we do?

Go, go, go.

Oh, Jesus.

- Fuck you, Montgomery!
- Shh, shh.

Stop!

Oh, come on.

How did you guys
get out of your dorms?

Well, we... we...

We got a little turned around and...

You all better get back inside
before somebody gets hurt.

There's no need
for physical violence.

Just put the kettle on, Felix.

You're right, old chap.

Somebody did get hurt.

It's that way.

- Which way?
- Over there.

Other way.
That way. Let's go.

Sorry.

Sorry.

Smith!

There!

Smith, where do we go next?

Smith. Smith!

Dude, you're pumping
a dry well with this guy.

Smith, we're counting on you.

So pull yourself together

and tell us where we're going.

142 Kensington Way.

That-a boy.

What's the zip code?

They got out.

Good.

Follow them.

An AMC gremlin?

Where are we going next?

I can't divulge information
at present.

You can't... what do you mean,
you can't divulge?

We're in the fucking blind here.

We'll need weapons.

Weapons.

That's it?

For now.

We're on a mission to hunt

one of the most wanted men
in the world,

and that's all you tell us?

Well, patient exhibits paranoid
personality disorder,

characterized by pervasive
distrust of others.

We're all on board, Smith.

Let's... let's get it done.

Well, definitely not
for hoplophobics.

What's a... what's a hoplophobic?

One who has an irrational fear
of firearms.

Thompson, my good man.

I'll need you to equip me

with a Subfusil Sterling L2A1

for this mission.

Subfusil Sterling.

Ain't nobody be askin'
about that gun

unless they're British Army

or some sort
of English double...

agent.

We'll need
four 9mm Heckler & Koch

MP5 submachine guns,

each equipped with a Pelican
M6 Light Front Sight Mount

and a thousand rounds
of 9mm Parabellum ammo.

Also an M79,
44mm grenade launcher

with Sub-caliber inserts
and 12 Gauge ammo.

And, finally, four steel
monolithic body armor plates

along with four night optics
thermal imaging binocular goggles.

And some camouflage...

The smock's
really uncomfortable.

And more food. We need more
food, for Christ sake.

You fellas from the circus
or something?

Can we get some help, please?

What you intend on doing
with all this weaponry?

We're going to kill...

Osama Bin Laden.

You can't just blurt it out
like that, you asshole.

He's gonna think we're crazy.

Well?

Uh, I can sell you most
of what you want now,

but you're gonna have to pass
a background check.

B... background check?

Yeah.

And, looking at you fellas...

It'll be a much needed
background check.

All right?

Let's get it over with.

Any of you fellas ever been dishonorably
discharged from the military

or renounce
your U.S. citizenship?

Ever been convicted of a crime

punishable by more
than one year in prison?

More than one year?

Ever been convicted
of any drug crimes?

Does that include using?

Ever been declared
legally incompetent

or mentally incapacitated?

Well, that was fun.
Let's get the fuck out of here.

Wait.

We need weapons.

Sorry, I can't help you fellas.

- You need more targets?
- Yeah.

Whoa now. Whoa.

Can you help us now?

Move real slow.

Real slow.

You fellas don't wanna wind up in a
whole heap of trouble now, do you?

No, no, we just... we don't need

a background check.
That's all.

That... that
should cover everything.

All right.

Fellas, I found
the grenade launcher.

Oh...

Looks like a bad case
of erectile dysfunction.

They won't get far.

That was not smart.
That was not smart at all.

What the fuck were you
doing back there?

Smith said we needed guns
to capture Bin Laden.

Capture Bin Laden? You're still
thinking about Bin Laden?

I'm worried about getting
through the day.

Oh, why are you worried?

Dude, are you high?

We just broke
out of an institution

and committed armed robbery
in the same day.

You don't think anybody
was gonna raise a brow?

It's not like we're hardened
lifers escaping from prison.

Guys, look, I paid for the stuff
at the gun store.

- We're fine.
- You're delusional.

At least I have an excuse why
I'm at Montgomery, but you...

You're genuinely crazy.

Yeah, there's no gray area
with you.

You are certified the real deal.

Oh, shit.
Oh, shit!

Looks like it's time for
a sporting game of leapfrog.

Don't wave at the cop!

Oh, shit.
Oh, shit, he's getting closer.

Well, look at that.

He's gaining on us!

Oh, God!

We got a cop... lots...

This guy's on our ass
like Liberace.

Smith, do something secret-agent
like to shake this guy.

Very good, pussy.

Time to test out
Thompson's modifications

on our defense mechanisms.

Nothing.

That usually does the trick.

Do something!

Well, this switch activates

the ejector passenger seat
for all passengers.

- So should we give it a go?
- No!

What are we doing?

Don't get your knickers
in a twist, Felix.

- Let's go.
- Go where?

Doodletown, New York.

- Doodletown?
- That's correct, pussy.

- Doodletown.
- Oh, yeah, that's a relief.

I thought we were gonna fight armed
soldiers deep in the heart of Pakistan.

Thank goodness the most
wanted man in the world

is hiding behind the counter of
some Doodletown convenience mart

making slushies
and week-old hotdogs.

Let's go.

Time to commandeer a new mode
of transportation.

- Need to inspect the guns.
- You don't need to inspect the guns.

Let me inspect my gun.
I need to inspect the guns.

I'm the one who should be
holding the guns.

I'm the most well adjusted
out of all of us.

Let me see the gun so I can
make sure that it fires well.

Did you have to bring the
grenade launcher with you?

It's a little hard
to keep inconspicuous...

We needed the grenade launcher,
okay?

Do you even know
where Doodletown is?

Well, I don't know
where Doodletown...

Mr. Flintstone,
can I have your autograph?

Uh...

I, uh, look, kid. I think you got me
confused with someone else, all right?

Don't think so.

You look just like the guy
on my vitamin bottle.

Get lost, kid.

Uh, patient lashes out at child.

Indicates borderline tendencies
for pedophobia.

I'm not a pedophile,
you asshole!

I said pedophobia. It means
"innate fear of children."

Oh, okay, but watch out
with those erroneous labels.

Montgomery has a big file
on me already.

Well, you do have HSP,

and that means
"highly sensitive person."

Don't you tell...

How appropriate.

A bunch of mental patients
in a short bus.

Won't be hard to spot.

We got 'em.

Gentlemen, we'll need a
suitable place for training.

Training for what?

For the guns?

You can't tango
without a few lessons.

I got something.
Put 381 Macy into your GPS.

Yeah, work on that.
Work on that one.

And then try a hook.
Try a hook shot.

I want you to try it right
handed and then left handed.

There you go.
There you go.

Nice. Nice. Good.
Good work.

Well, there he is.

Making any progress getting
your name in lights?

What did you, uh...

- Join the army or something?
- It's funny you ask.

I'm actually right in the middle
of something really important.

It's gonna make me
a household name.

Oh, great. What is it?

Well, I can't say,

but, believe me, it's huge.

Oh, well, that's...
That's wonderful.

Anyway, I was wondering if me
and a few friends of mine

could use the shooting range
for some target practice.

- Oh...
- Oh.

Your father took that down

a long time ago.

- You did?
- Justin,

go over the song on page nine,

and after that, we are going
to rehearse your lines.

Uh, reverse layup.

Why don't you do
the reverse layup?

Try a few more of those, okay?

Who's he?

That's little Justin from... remember?
The boy from down the street.

I thought he moved away
years ago.

He was on "the young
and the restless" last month,

and now we are preparing
for a Disney audition.

We? He's not even a relative.

He's the neighborhood boy.
We all raised him.

I mean-.

Don't you know the expression
"It takes a village"?

What are you guys doing?

What do you mean?

I've been busting my butt
for years

trying to make you proud of me,

and instead of supporting me,

it looks like you've started

some sort of future-famous
training school

for wayward strangers.

They are not wayward strangers.

They are family.

You guys gave up on me,
didn't you?

- Oh...
- No.

We... we just realized you
weren't cut out for stardom.

So once you labeled me...

A failure,

you just went out and found
a couple of replacements.

No, we didn't want to put
any more pressure on you.

Pressure? Oh, all right. So the first
time you see me after all these years,

and say, "are you having any progress
getting your name in lights",

that's not putting
any pressure on me.

What your father
meant to say was...

Time to go, Felix.

Oh, don't leave like this, Bob.
Bernie, say something.

Hi, Mr. Marcus. Thanks for the sneakers.
I really love them.

- Oh, good fit?
- Oh, fit like a glove.

They actually gave me, like,
five inches on my vertical.

- Wanna see?
- Sure.

Really nice.

I gotta go.

That's good.

I guess Thomas Wolfe
was right, huh?

We can never go home again.

I guess.

Buck up, Marcus.

You can't let no dipshit
stand in your way.

You want it, go get it.

This is great.
This is great.

I told you that Smith didn't know
what the hell he was doing.

Time for a little hike, mates.

Smile.

Smith. Hey.

Smith, so how's our chances
looking?

Felix, we're as good as being
dealt a straight flush

in five-card poker.

Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?

- Agoraphobia.
- Agoraphobia?

Agoraphobia, you asshole.

I have a fear
of wide open spaces.

How are you going to walk
with us

if you have a fear
of wide open spaces?

There's nothing
around us for miles.

Exactly.

Wow.
You got a lot of problems.

Anger issues, eating disorder,
and now you...

That's why I'm at Montgomery,
you dickwad!

Uh... look, we got a problem.

He's got a fear
of wide open spaces.

Agoraphobia?

No. No, no.
No, no, no, Phil.

Phil, hey, hey, hey...

Hey.

Relax.

What?

N...

You still thinking about wide
open spaces, my dear pussy?

Hey.

Wait! Smith, wait.

Stop walking.

You can't just go off
by yourself.

We have a rendezvous
in precisely two hours.

I can't wait for pussy.

So what ever happened to your
credo "leave no man behind"?

Step aside. I've not time
for rank amateurs.

Stop wasting time.

- Now, move your bloody arse.
- "Bloody arse"?

Let me ask you a question.
I'm curious.

Are you even American?

I am red, white, and blue
all the way through, Felix.

I've dedicated my entire live

to this one defining moment.

Right here, right now.

Time to avenge 9/11.

Screw this!

Screw this.

Hey, where do you think
you're going?

Larry! What is going on
around here?

Now it's every man for himself?

I cannot handle another failure.

Failure?

What the hell do you know
about failure?

Unlike you mental defectives,

I was normal.

I used to be
a wall street broker.

I had a beautiful wife,

kids,

a house in the suburbs,

and just out of the blue,

I get laid off.

So, Larry, losing a job
is not the end of the world.

No! It's your wife
suddenly bailing out on you

because you can't give her the
life that she's used Tc anymore.

It is her falsely accusing you
of assault

because she trips
over your foot on the way out.

It's the cops leading you
out of your house

in handcuffs.

And your kids
are frantic, crying,

"daddy. Daddy, daddy!"

- I didn't...
- Take it from me, Marcus.

There comes a point
in everyone's life

where you have got to take
a hard look

and see the reality
around you...

And take matters
into your own hands.

W... whoa, Lare, Lare.

After all, if you
wanna do something right,

you gotta do it yourself.

No! No, lare!

No, Larry.

Larry, give me the gun.

Pass me the gun.
Get a hold of yourself.

Give me the gun.
I'm gonna kill you.

Give it to me!
Give it to me!

No!

It's okay.

Gentlemen, a car will be traveling
down that road for a house call.

Our objective
is to stop the car,

apprehend the doctor
and the nurse,

and terminate all others.

Terminate? You mean...
You mean really kill?

Let's build a little roadblock.

Oh, this is sharp.
Someone could get hurt.

Someone's coming.

Places.

Keep an eye on the doctor.

That's unfortunate.

What's wrong?

Didn't I tell you to keep
an eye on the doctor?

We did. What, did you want us
to stop him, too?

Put this on.

What for?

You're going to be his nurse.

Me?

You want to be famous,

don't you?

Besides, I'm the wrong gender
and skin tone.

What, oh... excuse me, terrorist.

Well, what about me?

I have you covered.

Put this on.

"Human hair."

I'll take care
of your complexion.

You'll need to hide this

on your person.

Hide it? Hide it where?
I don't have any pockets.

Your bum makes a cozy place.

- You want me to put that thing Ln...
- Uh-huh.

It's really big.

How do you suppose I...

Keep in mind, Felix,

one fart gets us all killed.

I'll take an exterior position.

Pussy, you stay here
and stop the doctor

should you need to.

Stop? Stop how?

By any means necessary.

Whatever you do,

keep it quiet.

I... I fell asleep.

- Move.
- What's this for?

Uh, okay.

Smith!

Go!

You just shot that guy.

Payback's a bitch, isn't it?

Nice shot, Felix.

We got him.

We got him.

Fucking a, we got him!

We got him?

Dude, we got him.

I'm famous.

I'm finally famous.

You poor sack of shit,

you're famous.

We're all famous.

Yes!

Okay.

So...

What do we do now?

We killed him.

It's over.

I know, dipshit.
What do we do now?

What do you mean, what do we do?

How do we get him out of here?

D... do we call the newspaper?

The FBI?

Do we have the number
for the FBI?

Looks like a good time
to tidy up a bit.

Let's go.

Shit.

Wait, where...

wait, where you going? We
can't just leave him up there.

Have you even thought
of an exit strategy?

Uh...

You don't have an exit strategy?

Smith, can I use your phone?

Ah.

Smith,

the phone works better

when it's out of your pocket.

I know, pussy.

Unfortunately,

my phone needs a charge.

We just killed the most
wanted man on the earth.

And now we can't share it
with anybody

because we don't have
any battery power?

Uh, I... I guess

we could wrap him up
in some sheets

and then carry him outside

and... and maybe try
and get a taxi.

You're an asshole.

You think that we
can just waltz out of here

with that fucker
and hail a taxi?

You don't deserve to be famous!

- Larry!
- You can stop now!

What?

Who are you?

Well done, Smith.

You done your country proud.

Well, the hunters
have become the hunted.

Burn these words
through your brain.

Shut the fuck u...

Sorry, Bob.

You're back.

W... where have you been?

Well, we... we got out.

I know. Wha... what happened?

Nothing.

But, you know what, I don't think I
want to be a household name anymore.

Well, that's progress.

A good friend of mine...

He once said,

"there comes a time where you
have to take a good, hard look"

at the reality around you,

and everyone's always
telling me that I'm average,

but I think I'm okay with it.

So do you want to be famous?

Nobody's ever asked me
that before.

I am.

I just think I want to be happy.

Marcus.

Group therapy.

Patient is contemplating
eating his feelings.

What's up, bro?

Hey.

Well, boys,

how does it feel to be back
in your natural habitat?

Hey, I know you.

You're... you're agent mustang,

the President's right-hand man.

Guys, do you know who this is?
This is the... this is the man

who singlehandedly
took down Osama...

Shit.

Looks like a light bulb
just went off.

Well, I believe Mr. Marcus'
recent epiphany

is deeply rooted in overcoming
his family psychological...

You must be the illustrious
Dr. Phil, I presume.

Why... why, yes,

my reputation
seems to precede me.

If I may...

Please allow me to offer you

a small token of my gratitude.

For your advanced intellect

and unique insight.

Why, I'd be honored.

Whoa, whoa, whoa...

Oh, come on.

You can't fight pure genius.

I knew that when Smith got out,

he would lead you
right to jackpot.

It was as easy
as taking candy from a baby.

You won't get away
with this shit.

Oh, but I already have.

When you boys took
Bin Laden down,

the legacy of our President

remained intact.

And as for yours truly,

well...

I get to remain
unbelievably famous.

But the fact is

that we killed Bin Laden,

and nothing's ever going
to change that.

Oh, true.

But it really doesn't matter,
does it?

You see, what your deranged
friend over there never understood

is that I'm the guy in charge.

You know what that means?

It means you're a fucking prick.

No.

It means that you all better get

real comfortable in here

because I'm gonna make sure
you spend

the rest of your worthless lives

drugged up in this asylum.

You can't do this!
We...

My, my...

Such pent-up anger.

Guess I'll have to prescribe
a little electroshock therapy

for you and your friends.

As for Smith...

I'm gonna work up
a special cocktail

to bring him down

permanently.

What goes around comes around.

Oh, keep thinking that,
Mr. Marcus.

Keep thinking.

Who knows?

Maybe your boys'll get
lucky again,

and Smith'll help you find

Elvis.

Elv... the... the King?

I know where he is.

You know where who is?

Elvis Presley.